


A time to sow

by netweight



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies), Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)
Genre: 3 Sentence Ficathon, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:15:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23158402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/netweight/pseuds/netweight
Summary: The Dag's baby is born and it's a boy.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20
Collections: Tells of the Wasteland





	A time to sow

The Planters say, not every seed will grow true. You can put it in the ground, feed it and water it, and still some will die an infant's death, the color leaching, the stem withering away to nothing.  
  
Up on the tower terraces, under the shade of hanging cloth rustling in the wind, the plant beds are newly built, packed with as much soil as the hydroponic gardens have been able to spare, and little else. Kneeling down, she fingers the small green sprout.  
  
"What is it, Mum?" the child asks from within the circle of her arms.  
  
"A tree," she says firmly. "We want it to be a tree."  
  
His eyes go wide looking at the bud, but then his eyebrows come down, nose scrunching up. "It's small," he says, falling between disappointment and accusation.  
  
She laughs. It's times like this she can really see herself in him, nevermind his pale eyes and white hair. "It'll grow up. Like green things do."  
  
"Oh," he draws out the syllable, like what she said has the magnitude of revelation. "Can it be mine?"  
  
_Trees are not things_ , is the first reply that comes to her mind, but that's a story from the time of the before she's not sure her son is yet ready to grasp. And it isn't right anyways. Trees are not people. "Trees are not for belonging to just one person."  
  
"But, Muuuum…"  
  
"What's this I hear about trees?" Capable interrupts. Dag has spotted her since she came outside, tracked her coming closer, picking her way through the paths, red hair streaming like a flag.  
  
"Come to take him down?" she asks at the same time he pipes up with, “Mum won't give me her tree!”  
  
"Yeah," she answers Dag, and to him, "That's because trees are for everyone," and before he can start kicking up a fuss, "But maybe she'll let you have a skin picture. Like hers," she bends down, reaches for one of Dag's hands. Holds it in her palm, showing the drawings on the back, then folds it in both of hers. "That way you can always hold it in your hand."  
  
"Can I, Mum?" he asks in a hushed, wondering tone.  
  
"Maybe. Food first."  
  
"Come up here, you nipper," Capable loops him up and hooks him on her hip. He's getting too big to carry. She gives him one of her red locks to play with. "We are gonna break fast, and then I will tell you of how, once, a tree saved your Mothers." She smooths his hair back, kisses his forehead. Dag can see her lips moving when she says, "A tree and a war boy."  
  
She watches them walk away against the wide, blue sky, a sway in Capable's step, she and her son smiling at each other.  
  
Not every seed will grow true, the Planters say. Still, you have to try. The Dag turns to the newly built plant beds and digs her hands into the moist, black earth.


End file.
